The Pain Game
by Arianna Archer
Summary: Alex Rider is captured by an unknown group. However, caught in the crossfire are the students of Brooklands. Secrets are revealed, a sadistic torturer comes into play, and Alex must do everything he can to keep his classmates- and himself- alive. Warnings: Swearing, descriptive torture and violence, and death.
1. Eleven Minutes

**Hey guys! So this is a new story I've been working on (I already have a lot chapters done, so expect frequent updates), This chapter is really short just because it had a certain theme to it (you'll see) so I had to cut it off. They'll get longer as it goes, though.**

 **Important: This fic is** _ **super**_ **violent. I'm trying something very extreme. So, warnings: swearing, death, torture, extreme and descriptive violence. Fun. If you like this chapter & want to read more but don't like the torture aspect, I'll mark those parts very clearly and you can skip right over them.**

 **Enjoy!**

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Chapter 1- Eleven Minutes

"Well this blows." Tom muttered to Alex from behind him in their row of desks. Alex had never heard truer words.

Out of all of Alex's classes, Mr. Humphrey's was the worst. From his hour-long lectures to his monotone voice, nothing was appealing.

The only thing appealing was the clock, showing that there were only fifteen minutes left of the dreadful lesson.

The utter boringness of the lecture caused Alex to focus on other things. It was sunny outside, but clouds in the distance threatened rain. Mr. Humphrey wore mismatched socks today, and everyone was avoiding Alex's eyes.

Fourteen minutes.

Rumors preceded Alex. The whole school thought he was in a gang, dealing arms, drugs or doing some other illegal activity. His classmates never said a word about their suspicions, most of them rarely even talked to him, but Alex was no idiot. He knew exactly what they thought.

Thirteen minutes.

Honestly? He didn't care. It kept them from asking questions, and it was a good quality-character test. Those who believed the rumors were quick to judge and gullible, those who didn't, namely Tom and a few more friends and teammates from years before, were perceptive and true friends.

Twelve minutes.

He looked behind him to get a wave from Amy and James; two of the few people who thought the rumors were absurd.

" _You know what Alex? We can't believe that they think you're in a gang." James said, approaching Tom and Alex at lunch, joined by Amy, an old friend, and Tyler and George, two football teammates. "We've always known you to be a good guy, and the only evidence anyone has are couple of bruises here and there. This bullshit is getting out of hand and we aren't taking another word of it."_

 _Alex's was taken aback; he wasn't expecting that. "Uh, thanks. Means a lot you guys."_

" _You mind if we sit with you two?" Amy asked._

Eleven minutes.

Right as the clock was eleven minutes away from sweet freedom, three masked figures swooped through the door. Silently, but purposeful and confident.

Immediately, Alex saw why they were so confident, because they were all toting pistols and pointing them around the room.

Before anyone in the room could open their mouths, a man with a Scottish accent commanded to the class: "Anyone utters a sound and we blow your brains out. Understood?" The class slowly nodded, fear in their widened eyes. Mr. Humphrey let out a small yelp and backed up against the whiteboard. Tom jumped, and then shifted his eyes to Alex. Alex squeezed his shut, waiting for what he knew would come: some order for him to step forward, and for the men to get their revenge. Alex didn't know who they were, but he was positive they were here because of him.

And what that meant? Alex didn't want to know.

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 **Thanks for reading, and please REVEIW! It's what makes me update!**

 **Yeah, really short, I know. They'll get longer after a few.** **I know I haven't updated Crashing Down in soooo long. I'm a stickler for realistic details, and it's tough to get that accuracy in the next chapter. I'm not abandoning it though, I would never do that!**


	2. Person of Interest

**Yes, back so soon! For that, you can thank user _lolocello_ , because she reviewed chapter one. Seriously, reveiws are why I keep updating. So shoutout to lolocello! **

**Also, thanks to all who liked/followed this story!**

 **Disclaimer (covers whole story): I don't own anything you recognize.**

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Chapter 2: Person of Interest

"You." One man with an American accent turned and ordered at Mr. Humphrey. "Sit down in that empty seat in the back, and don't make a sound."

"I can't let-" the teacher started, feeling obligated to stand up to these men and protect the students, as he was the classroom authority.

"What the hell did I just say?" The American posed a rhetorical question. Mr. Humphrey gave it up, went to the back, and sat down. He looked rather large compared to the students he was sitting with, but much smaller than the hulkish men giving orders. The teacher still felt uneasy letting the men do what they wanted, but it was either that or his life.

"We're here for a very specific reason." The Scottish gunman boomed. Judged from his power stance and his air of contempt, Alex could tell he was the leader. "We've been sent to collect a... person of interest. He's been a pain in the ass to track down, but we've narrowed it to the students in this classroom. He knows who he is. Now: Mr. Person of Interest, step forward now, and we won't hurt you. Deal?"

The man stood in silence waiting for Alex to identify himself. Alex was relieved. They didn't know who it was! He instantly changed his face to match his classmates' look of terror. As long as he blended in with the rest of the bunch, he wouldn't be exposed. The men scanned the room, getting increasingly irritated. Alex let out a microscopic smirk. They come in here and say they don't know who they're looking for, without even trying to hide it? What idiots. Now that all their cards were on the table, there was no way they'd ever get him. Unless...

Alex looked to his left, then to the right. Although many stayed quiet under the orders, some whispered hurriedly to each other. Their gears were turning, and one by one, they started to turn and look right at Alex.

Of course they would think the Person of Interest was him! He was the one who was a rumored gang member, who else could it be? if only they knew how wrong they were. If only they knew the real reason Alex was always gone, then they would never want to give him up.

Robby Albras, a nazely, big headed kid, did what everyone else was afraid to do. He stood and pointed a bony finger in Alex's direction. "It's him!" He declared with a thin veil of confidence. Alex was crushed; he had it in for himself now. Startled by this outcry, the gunmen pointed their weapons at Robby. At that, he screamed and sat down, clutching his face in his hands.

"Who were you pointing to?" The American gunman lowered his weapon and approached the boy. He responded with incoherent whimpers. Although Alex hated to see him anyone in that state, it might just save him. His mind grappled for a plan, an escape, but he had none. All he could rely on was his luck of the devil.

"Shit, kid!" the leader shoved the American out of the way. "TELL US WHO THE HELL WERE YOU POINTING TO!" He pulled him up by the chin and stared in his eyes. Albras' breathing became shallow; his breaths were quick and inconsistent.

"I- it- Al-" Was all he could muster under the Scot's furious glare.

The leader lifted Robby into the air by his throat. The boy struggled as his face turned red. "Whoever he was pointing to, stand up now, or this kid dies." The scot said in a deadly serious tone. His immediate change in emotion was concerning, Alex could see this man had quite a few psychopathic tendencies. Yet another reason that he needed to find a way out of this mess. But that was easier said than done; there were very few ways Alex could escape, and none of them guaranteed zero mortalities.

With his mind occupied with finding a solid plan, Alex didn't even consider that he should be standing up. He looked over at Robby, who's face was turning an unnatural shade of purple.

The last thing Alex wanted to do was reveal himself to the gunmen, and be the Scot's next victim. But there was no way in hell Alex would stand by and let an innocent kid die, regardless of the fact that he tried to sell him out moments ago. As he prepared to rise, a student named Jamie, an athletic blonde, couldn't stand waiting for Alex to give himself up.

"it's Alex, right there." She pointed to him. He silently cursed, not only at being exposed, but because he hadn't stepped in to save Robby, his classmates shot looks of disgust his way. In their eyes, he was even more of a monster than before.

Yet again, the men trained their pistols at the noise, but Jamie learned from Robby's experience and stood her ground, her finger shaking but still pointing right at the teen spy. The men followed her direction, and Alex was soon staring down the barrels of three high caliber weapons, with deadly hitmen on the other ends.

"It seems we've found our Person of Interest."

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 **Short yet again, because of the chapter's theme. They'll get longer. Please review, and I'll probably shout you out! Also, expect a _Crashing Down_ update very soon. **

**-Archer**


	3. The Tables Have Turned

**Yes, back so soon! Please enjoy!**

 **Previously...**

 _Yet again, the men trained their pistols at the noise, but Jamie learned from Robby's experience and stood her ground, her finger shaking but still pointing right at the teen spy. The men followed her direction, and Alex was soon staring down the barrels of three high caliber weapons, with deadly hitmen on the other ends._

 _"It seems we've found our Person of Interest."_

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Chapter 3-Tables Have Turned

Being at gunpoint certainly set Alex on edge, that much was true, but he wasn't nearly as scared as a fifteen-year-old schoolboy should be. To combat suspicion, Alex jumped a bit in his seat, raised his hands, and gave a little yelp. The gunmen chuckled slightly at his reaction.

"Whoever you're looking for, it's not me. I'm nothing special." Alex assured the men, but to no avail.

"You're clearly pretty damn special if everyone in here think we're looking for you." The Scot growled. "Men!" he addressed the other two. "Get in position! Move it!" The men spread out across the room: one went for the door to keep look out, and one- the American- patrolled the aisles of desks to keep watch on the students.

The leader pulled Alex by the lapel of his uniform to the front of the room, and then pressed his pistol against the boy's temple. All eyes were on them. "Tell me," he addressed the class, "Does this brat have a reputation?" He was met with silence. "Someone speak up or I'll blow his brains out!" He exploded. The veins in his arms bulged, and Alex imagined the ones on his head did too. A girl in the second row quickly raised her hand.

"Spit it out." He ordered the girl.

"Well, he misses a lot of school, and always comes back with bruises and cuts, looking really... haunted." The girl, Alisa, spoke slowly, but steadily. She was a quiet girl who Alex didn't consider much, but she seemed quite perceptive. While others interpreted his behavior as moody or angry, she saw him as troubled. She also didn't seem as shaken about the current predicament as the rest of his class...

"Ah, well, that would fit, now wouldn't it?" The scot cut though his thoughts.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I just get sick a lot." Alex assured with his age-old excuse, but the Scot continued as if he hadn't said a word.

"Lets look you up in the database. Tell me your name." He commanded. Alex considered not responding, but with a room full of people who knew him, it would take the man a matter of seconds to learn it from his classmates.

"Alex Rider." He forced himself to say, knowing this is what would cause him to be exposed. The scot pulled out a phone and typed something in.

"Well, well. Two results! Family business, huh? Thinking of joining?" The boss declared. At this, Alex connected the dots. The database was a list of MI6 employees. The two hits must have been Ian and John Rider. But why he was looking up relatives, Alex couldn't say.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Alex lied.

"Bullshit. You know full well what I'm talking about. A kid with family like that would be well aware of his situation, especially with the safety risks. That's why you're always pulled out of school, right? Safety risks?" The Scot shot back. He seemed pleased with his deductions. Although his so called evidence shed some light on what the men knew, Alex still couldn't figure out why they weren't bringing his own MI6 involvement into light. That was the reason they were here, right?

The Scot glanced down at the screen again to exit the database. This small action gave Alex an idea. It wasn't much, it was risky, but it was better than nothing.

"Oh yeah? You think you have something solid about me? Prove it." Alex challenged. He saw his classmates exchanged confused glances. The mention of a "family business" threw them for a loop and challenged their ideas of a kid gone to the dark side. It seemed to them that there was something more. And now that Alex had all but confirmed the man's claims, they couldn't simply write it off as the ramblings of a psycho.

"Yeah, I'll prove it." The leader retorted. He did just what Alex thought he would do. He could tell the man was very prideful, which meant he would never pass up an opportunity to show that he was right. The Scot went back to the phone screen and re-entered the data.

Since the man was distracted with the phone, Alex made his move. Although the leader was barely looking, his gun was still against Alex's head. To combat this, he quickly pivoted until he was out of the gun's line of fire, then grabbed it by the barrel and twisted his whole body. His movements wrenched the weapon out of the Scot's grip. The leader reacted quickly, going in for a kick, but Alex swung around behind the man, leaving his foot to hit nothing but air. Alex, gun in hand, hid himself behind the Scot and pressed the man's own weapon into his temple. _Oh, how the tables have turned,_ The teen smirked.

"Don't make a move, all of you, or else this son of a bitch is dead." Alex commanded before anyone knew what was going on. The room was dead silent. Alex looked over the Scot's shoulder to see his classmates.

Some instinctively leaned away from the scene, some leaned forward with their jaws dropped, and a few ducked behind their desks in fear of a gunfight. It was clear, however, that the fact that Alex possessed the skills to take a gun in that way didn't surprise them. If anything, it confirmed their ideas about Alex's life outside of school. Alex looked to Amy and James, and saw fear in their eyes-of _him._

Tom and those two were some of his only friends, and he was losing them right in front of his eyes. He was trying to save everyone, but all they could see was a thug. Dejected, but still focused on his task, Alex looked to the gunmen. They were just as surprised that Alex pulled that stunt, maybe even more so than the kids, considering they had no preconceived notions about him. But their surprise didn't last long. They began to _laugh._

"You think we give a shit about this guy's life?" The man guarding the door snorted. "Kill him and see if we care, he's an asshole anyway." Of anything the man could have said, that was least expected. The man called Alex's bluff, and leisurely made his way towards the two.

Alex was torn. He didn't want to kill unless he had to, but if he gave up his advantage he'd see no mercy. Although at this point, it was clear he had no advantage. It seemed like a lose-lose situation. _But,_ if he killed the leader, it could result in much less punishment for his actions. If the Scot was willing to strangle an innocent kid for doing nothing, he didn't want to know what he would do after being held at gunpoint. Alex took a deep breath, and squeezed the trigger.

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 **There you have it! I just wanted to shout out a guest reviewer, for pointing out that a british accent would not be something notable to Alex, so I changed that character from a Brit to and American. Thanks for the feedback!**


	4. Bullets, Bloodstains, and a Body

**New chapter! Took a bit longer than I had hoped. But here it is!**

 **Shoutouts: Yashendra2797 for reviewing _all the time,_ thats just so amazing. Also: to The Needless Lobsters and Niamh x for reviews that were a bit more descriptive than usual. Thanks guys!**

Previously...

 _"You think we give a shit about this guy's life?" The man guarding the door snorted. "Kill him and see if we care, he's an asshole anyway." Of anything the man could have said, that was least expected. The man called Alex's bluff, and leisurely made his way towards the two._

 _Alex was torn. He didn't want to kill unless he had to, but if he gave up his advantage he'd see no mercy. Although at this point, it was clear he had no advantage. It seemed like a lose-lose situation. But, if he killed the leader, it could result in much less punishment for his actions. If the Scot was willing to strangle an innocent kid for doing nothing, he didn't want to know what he would do after being held at gunpoint. Alex took a deep breath, and squeezed the trigger._

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Chapter 4: Bullets, Bloodstains, and a Body

Just as Alex pulled the trigger, the gun was shoved off to the left, the bullet whizzing past the leader's skull in the nick of time. It cut through the door guard's arm and lodged itself in the classroom wall. The guard screamed out in agony as his gun clattered to the carpet, but quickly shut his mouth. He must have been previously ordered to show no weakness, or wanted to save his pride, so he resorted to silently clutching his forearm. Blood coated it in an instant.

Alex was bewildered. He knew he had shot straight at the leader, why did it go off target? He looked behind him to see the American man who had previously been prowling the rows of desks. The man had snuck up on Alex and pushed the gun away. He then grabbed Alex by the shoulders and shoved him forcefully into the wall. He hit his head on the plaster and blinked away stars. The American pinned Alex in his place and smirked, ready to deliver another blow. Alex shut his eyes and braced for impact.

Alex was done for, and he knew it. He thought that the punishment for holding the man at gunpoint would be bad, but the punishment for attempting to kill him? He willed his mind not to explore the thought.

He waited for another punch, but all that came were furious screams from the leader. Alex opened his eyes to a deadly scene: the Scot had taken the gun from the ground and had it pointed straight at the door guard's face.

"YOU WERE GOING TO LET HIM KILL ME! HE TRIED TO SHOOT ME AND YOU DIDN'T GIVE A SHIT!" He ranted to the man. His voice never seemed to get hoarse.

"I- I was just calling his bluff!" The door guard stammered and wheezed as blood continued to flow from his wound and cover the floor in red. "I didn't think he would kill you if it didn't do him any good. He's just a kid!" He tried to defend himself, but the Scot would have none of it.

"YOU DIRTY BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU!" He bellowed. Alex and the American watched from the opposite wall, the man still keeping the teen in place. He considered making a move amidst the chaos, but with the leader itching to shoot, he didn't want to give him any more reason for a bullet to be fired his way.

"Hey, boss!" The American finally spoke. The Scot barely acknowledged him. "If you kill him now, it will be that much harder to... complete our job." he said, trying to both keep his leader calm and keep the kids from knowing what would happen to them. "We'd have to deal with the body, and-"

He was interrupted by the sound of a bullet being fired, and the door guard dropping to the floor, eyes frozen forever in silent horror.

"His body isn't worth a damn. Leave it here for all I care. No one can connect it to us." The leader said in an eerie, level tone. No one dared speak, but Alex caught a glance of silent tears present on some of his classmates' faces. Alex shrank back, terrified. Terrified for himself, for his classmates, for their future. A future which may be very, very short.

"Now you." The Scot said the words Alex dreaded to hear, as he turned to the teen and slowly made his way to the wall where he was pinned. The boss reached it in three large strides, then shooed the other man off. "You think you can just try and kill me, and it won't come back to haunt you?" Alex didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.

"TALK TO ME WHEN I'M SPEAKING TO YOU!" The leader whacked him across the temple with his gun, sending the boy straight to the floor. His vision went yellow and spotty, and he had trouble concentrating. More screaming from the Scot brought him back.

"WELL? DO YOU THINK THAT'S ACCEPTABLE?" He rephrased his earlier question. Fearing more punishment, Alex answered with the first thing he could think.

"No! No it wasn't!" He looked up from the ground at the man towering over him. It seemed this answer wasn't what he wanted to hear.

"Then why did you do it?!" He punctuated each word with a sharp kick to Alex's side. He couldn't breathe, but adrenaline kept him from feeling most of his pain. He stood as quickly as possible, afraid that staying on the ground would mean more kicks.

Alex struggled to get air, but breath was only coming in short, raspy intakes. The Scot went for another swing with the pistol, but Alex stuck his arm out and blocked in instinctively. He cried out at the impact, but he knew it hurt much less than his face would've.

Alex went in for a kick before the leader could retaliate, but his lack of air weakened him, and caused his leg to move slow enough to easily block it. The boss did just that, then spun Alex around, grabbed his wrists, and pulled them behind his back. He jerked him slightly backwards, then proceeded to slam Alex's face against the wall.

He lost count after four; the blinding agony became his main focus. He could feel himself beginning to slip away from reality. The Scot must have noticed how close he was to unconsciousness, because he pulled Alex away from the wall. His head left a sizeable dent in the plaster.

"Oh, no, you aren't getting off that easy." The man shook him by the shoulders until the teen became more alert. "I'M GOING TO DESTROY YOU!" The boss lifted the gun once more, but this time, he shoved the muzzle under Alex's chin; the cold sleek metal sent a chill through every nerve in his body. The Scot forced the teen's head to tilt until his eyes could see no lower than the top of the man's disguise. Alex feared the top of a black ski mask would be the last thing he ever saw.

Before the Scot took any action, he seemed to get an idea. "No." He stated coolly and purposefully. "That's too quick." The man slowly moved the gun down and stopped at his torso.

"With a bullet to the stomach you'll die a slow and painful death. I want to watch the life bleed out of you. I want to see you scream and writhe in agony until you beg me to deliver the killing shot. But no, I won't do it." His mouth stretched into a sinister grin. "I'll sit, and I'll wait however long it takes for you to meet your end. Whether it be minutes, hours or days. I'll wait, and you'll suffer."

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 **There you go! Hey, to all you not reading it, go check out Crashing Down, my other AR fic!**

 **Please review! Come on my fellow writers especially, you know how great that feels! Also, I may give you a shoutout!**


	5. All in a Day's Work

I'm back! I'm not even going to bother with excuses, it just didn't happen as fast as it should have.

I got so much positive feedback from people and honestly you guys, it means so much to me. Thanks to every single one of you, but the specific people I'm going to shout out are The Needless Lobsters and Whisperponyx for their little predictions and hopes for the next chapter. Those are so fun to read, an maybe if I ever see a really good idea I'll put it in (and give credit, naturally)!

 _Previously..._

 _"Oh, no, you aren't getting off that easy." The man shook him by the shoulders until the teen became more alert. "I'M GOING TO DESTROY YOU!" The boss lifted the gun once more, but this time, he shoved the muzzle under Alex's chin; the cold sleek metal sent a chill through every nerve in his body. The Scot forced the teen's head to tilt until his eyes could see no lower than the top of the man's disguise. Alex feared the top of a black ski mask would be the last thing he ever saw._

 _Before the Scot took any action, he seemed to get an idea. "No." He stated coolly and purposefully. "That's too quick." The man slowly moved the gun down and stopped at his torso._

 _"With a bullet to the stomach you'll die a slow and painful death. I want to watch the life bleed out of you. I want to see you scream and writhe in agony until you beg me to deliver the killing shot. But no, I won't do it." His mouth stretched into a sinister grin. "I'll sit, and I'll wait however long it takes for you to meet your end. Whether it be minutes, hours or days. I'll wait, and you'll suffer."_

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Chapter 5: All in a Day's Work

The leader slowly pulled back the hammer, and stared Alex right in the eyes. Alex was cornered. If he didn't act immediately, he would die a brutal and vicious death at the hands of this psychopath. He willed himself to ignore his shallow breaths, the ringing in his ears, and the noise of his heart beating louder than the Scot could ever yell. He had to do something- convince the man to spare his life, kick him, punch him, _something._ His arm twitched, ready to drive away the gun. Before he could act, the American man spoke up.

"Hey, boss?" The American asked once more, this time softer and with more caution.

"WHAT?" The Scot shouted, irritated at the interruption.

"We need the kid alive if we want to get... what we want." He explained his reasoning, again making sure not to give anything away. Although the Scottish man was the head of the group, Alex mused, it should have been this man; he was much more reasonable and calculated. "Besides," The American continued, "We're on a time crunch. You can do whatever you want to the brat once we're out of here, as long as you don't kill him."

At the mention of the time, the boss' eyes shifted towards the clock. Alex couldn't care less about the time; his mind was too distracted. One half of his brain was still processing how close he came to death, and the other spun with the possibilities of where they were taking him, and what would happened to him when he go there. None of his thoughts were pleasant.

"Shit, you're right. five minutes." The clock read two fifty-five, and school got out at three. Alex couldn't believe how much his life had changed in the span of six minutes.

"Okay, let's get moving." The boss pushed Alex towards the American, although he was reluctant to give him up and lose his opportunity to inflict a painful death. The American caught him and pinched his elbows together at the back, demobilizing his arms. It was uncomfortable, but he would take anything to get away from the leaders' grip. He reached for a radio in his back pocket. "We got him. We're headed to the pick up."

"We've got a problem." the radio buzzed back. "A couple of cops are just walking into the building, heading your way."

"WHAT?" The Scot bellowed into the walkie-talkie. "WHO THE HELL RATTED?"

"No one, we think." The voice stayed level. "I figure a staff member or student heard some noises and decided to call it in. Besides, if someone sold us out, the cops would know exactly what was going on and would send more than just one car."

The voice on the radio had a solid point, and the Scot knew it. His only response was a irritated grumble and a simple resolution: "We'll just kill them. Kill them both." He shut off the radio.

"Oh," The American attempted to disguise his shock. If the Scot heard the undertones, he didn't care. "Well, what's the plan? I'd rather not deal with a shootout. Especially in the halls of a school; that won't end well."

"We can..." The Scot contemplated for a few beats, "Use the brat. If we cross paths with the cops we can have him in front of us like a shield." The two men seemed to think this was a good idea. Alex did not. However, he stayed quiet. He didn't need to leave a second dent in the wall.

"One kid won't be enough to cover the both of us."

"Two then."

"And what about the rest?"

"Kill them."

This statement, delivered so directly and causally, brought great distress on everyone in the class. Some gasped, some screamed, some cried. Most tried to stay quiet, the impact of the words only visible on their expressions, but that didn't matter to the Scot. He believed that if even just one of them was out of line, they were all out of line.

"SHUT UP!" He smacked the student closest to him across the face. The boy's head whipped to one side and it took him a few seconds to recover. When he straightened up, there was a large red handprint on his cheek. "WE ARE HAVING A CONVERSATION!"

"Well," The American started up cautiously, "I don't think we have enough time to kill all of them, and once those cops hear gunshots, they'll come running."

"Well we can't leave them," The leader objected. "They'll talk. I won't leave any loose ends."

"Let's... just... bring them all." The American proposed the radical idea. "Gives us a better chance of getting out of here, and each kid is that much more dough." The Scot, alarmed at first, seemed to warm up to the idea at the sound of more money.

The idea of money was interesting to Alex as well, but for completely different reasons. It was now obvious that the men planned on holding all the kids for a ransom, but the American had said the kids would make them _more_ dough, meaning Alex was going to get them money in the first place. Were they planning on holding him for a ransom too? Who were they going to send the threat to? MI6? Alex was left with only more questions. He would focus on them later- he needed to act now.

"No." Alex commanded. His voice was nearly back to normal after having quite some time to recover, but there were still traces of breathlessness. "If you take them I'll make your time with me hell. I'll argue and struggle and fight every chance I get. And you already know I can fight. But, if you just take me, then I'll go quietly, and I'll do what you ask. You won't get any trouble from me if you spare them."

In all honesty, Alex was bluffing. He would fight as much as possible, that much was true, but the amount that would be possible was very little. Faced with armed men and twenty-odd hostages, there would be little he could do without putting everyone at risk. Alex just hoped that the men wouldn't figure that out until it was too late to change their minds.

"Nice try, but you're not in a position to make demands." The Scot sneered. Alex berated himself; they hadn't bought it for a second. "Besides," the man continued, "We came prepared." He pulled a small syringe filled with a deep blue liquid out of his belt and tossed it from hand to hand, smirking as he came closer.

"Can't fight when you're unconscious, can you?" He swaggered up to the boy. Alex struggled against the American's grip, but he held on tight. The boss forced his chin to one side and shoved the syringe into his neck. He pushed all the liquid into his veins.

The American released Alex and pushed him away, knowing he wouldn't be awake much longer. Alex knew it too- his movements were already feeling forced and sluggish. All he wanted was to embrace the drug and sleep- but he refused to submit to the men so easily.

He took a shaky step forward, but that was all it took for him to stumble and collapse towards the ground. As the world dimmed, he could make out a whisper of a sentence: "Don't think I forgot about what you did." Everything went black the second he touched the carpet.

"Everyone up, let's move it! I don't want to hear a noise until we're well away." The Scot ordered with a wave of his gun. The students and Mr. Humphrey fearfully complied, and they all shuffled towards the door, uncertain of what lay ahead.

The American grabbed Alex from the floor and swung him over his shoulder, then walked behind the rest of the group, on the alert for any misbehavior from the hostages.

He shut the door behind him, leaving bullets, bloodstains, and a body in their wake. The clouds above the school finally broke, rain fell and tapped on the skylights.

 _All in a day's work._

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So, I'd say we're about at the point where the shorter chapters end, and the longer ones begin. But that may vary, who knows. Thanks to everyone for following, favoriting, and reviewing!


	6. Revelations

Uhhh.. Hey, guys...

The last time I published was some time around March, I think. Oml. Well, I'm here now, and now that it's summer I can write a lot more than I was during the school year! Well, there is one, pretty glaring problem..

My parents shut off my wifi. For the entire summer.

Can you believe it?! Luckily as of today they've been lazy with their system so I can turn it back on without them knowing and use it while they sleep, but who knows how long that'll last. For you guys, that has some pros and cons. Pros: You don't need the internet to write (besides research and fact-checking, which I can use my phone for), so I'll be doing a lot of that. Cons: I can't publish without wifi. If it comes to it, I'll probably bring my computer down to Starbucks every once and a while. But, it's still a very unnecessary hassle.

Anyways, If you didn't notice yet this chapter is really long, so hopefully that will makeup for the delay!

 **Previously...**

 **"Everyone up, let's move it! I don't want to hear a noise until we're well away." The Scot ordered with a wave of his gun. The students and Mr. Humphrey fearfully complied, and they all shuffled towards the door, uncertain of what lay ahead.**

 **The American grabbed Alex from the floor and swung him over his shoulder, then walked behind the rest of the group, on the alert for any misbehavior from the hostages.**

 **He shut the door behind him, leaving bullets, bloodstains, and a body in their wake. The clouds above the school finally broke, rain fell and tapped on the skylights.**

 ** _All in a day's work._ **

* * *

Chapter 6- Revelations

"How many?" Crawley questioned the officer. The man's forehead was still covered in sweat from what happened not even a half an hour ago. His name was Jensen Keyes- he had introduced himself just moments before Crawley threw a boatload of questions at him. John kept his back to the man to keep his face hidden from the throngs of reporters who had already arrived at the scene.

"Seven. One of them was unconscious." He replied after some thought.

"No. How many people _saw it."_ He clarified. Keyes faltered. The man wasn't asking the type of questions he was used to getting from average investigators.

"Uh, where did you say you were from again?" He asked.

"I didn't. How many saw the incident?" Crawley plowed on.

"Hey now, I can't just give away case information like that willy-nilly. If you aren't an investigator, I'm going to have to ask you to-" before the man could finish, Crawley took out his wallet and whipped out his badge.

"John Crawley. MI6. I'd like an answer _today,_ preferably." He grew slightly irritable at the cop's hesitance.

"Oh! Wow. Um," The officer stammered. "There were 17 kids total in the class, one teacher, and I've got a few reports from students who saw the shootout from their classroom."

"The kids and the teacher, have they spoken to anyone yet?"

"Just our officers, Sir."

"Keep it that way. I'd like to see them at once. The officers as well." Crawley requested.

"Absolutely, Sir." The cop turned around and headed for the school building. They ducked under yellow police line tape and kept their heads turned away from the flashing lights of news cameras as the other cops on the scene struggled to hold everyone back.

"Are either of you willing to make a statement?" One man shouted over the din as he shoved against the crowd control officers. They ignored him and ducked into the building.

"So," Keyes started hesitantly. "How does this investigation concern MI6?"

"Where are the witnesses?" Crawley blatantly ignored his query.

"We're keeping them in a vacant classroom for now," the cop answered without faltering, although he seemed dejected. "The rest of the students and staff just got released from lockdown and are being sent home now."

"Here we are." He said as they neared the classroom. He opened the door to a room of ten kids, one teacher and a handful of officers. Nearly all the kids jumped when Keyes opened the door.

"Sorry guys." Crawley apologized for the scare. His tone immediately shifted from stone cold to caring and warm. "My name's John, I'm here to talk to you about what happened today. Are you willing to do that?"

"Where did they take them?" One kid, short and afraid, asked John. He was struggling to hold back tears.

"We don't know for sure yet, but the investigators are very good at what they do. I'm sure they'll find your friends in no time." Crawley assured. "Can any of you tell me what happened? The more we know, the faster we'll be able to find the people responsible."

The teacher, Mr. Humphrey, spoke up. "Three men came into our classroom with guns, and asked for a student; Alex Rider. When he went up to them, they checked his name on some database, and said it... matched?" Mr. Humphrey crinkled his forehead and shrugged, clearly unsure of what this database was. "Then Alex took one man's gun and tried to kill him, but he was stopped, and one guy killed another guy, and-"

"It's okay if you need a moment." Crawley reassured once he noticed the teacher begin to hyperventilate. He took a few big breaths.

"If you're ready, could you tell me what these men looked like?" Crawley asked after a minute.

"They were all wearing masks, so I can't help much. One of them, the leader it seemed, was really tall and had a Scottish accent. Another had an American accent. The third was just British." He described as Crawley scribbled down notes.

Thank you. Now, you said Alex Rider tried to kill one of these men, why was that?" John asked. It wasn't like Alex to go around shooting people unless he absolutely had to.

"Well, he said that he would kill the leader if the other guys let everyone go, but one of the guys, the British one, said they didn't care about the man he was threatening to kill, and Alex should just go ahead and kill him, so he tried. But another man, the American, snuck up behind Alex and knocked the gun out of his hand. That really didn't end well for Rider, the poor kid." Mr. Humphrey Shook his head, and Crawley's brow crinkled. "Well, it ended up worse for the British man, in all honesty."

"What do you mean?" John grew concerned. He's always liked Alex, and it seemed like things did not end well for him today.

"The leader, he killed the British guy for letting Alex pull the trigger. It was awful, there was blood everywhere, I-"

"Let's stay away from that topic." Crawley stopped Mr. Humphrey as his pace and breathing quickened again. Besides, his real concern was Alex. "Now, what did you mean about it not ending well for Alex? What happened to him?"

"The guy who he was trying to shoot, the leader, he went crazy. He kicked him, slammed his head against the wall, and tried to shoot him, but the American said they needed him alive." Crawley wrote another note with his lips pursed tight. He'd always had a bit of a soft spot for the boy, and it pained him to know that what happened to him that day was entirely MI6's fault.

"They stuck a needle in his neck and he passed out, then they took us all out to the parking lot and tried to put us in their helicopter." The teacher resumed the story.

"I can take it from here Mr. Humphrey." One of the officers, sporting a long black braid and olive skin, stepped in. "Mike and I," She gestured to the officer that brought Crawley in, "we walked out to the parking lot right as the men were putting the kids in the helicopter. We shouted at them to surrender their weapons, which only caused them to load the students into the chopper quicker, and start firing back. I put a warning shot into the tail, which spooked them enough to leave the rest of the kids behind and fly off with who they had."

"Do you know why they wanted all the students?" Crawley inquired.

"They didn't want to leave any loose ends. I suppose that getting out unharmed was more important to them though, or else they wouldn't have given up so quickly." Crawley jotted down more notes.

"Thank you for your cooperation, all of you." Crawley addressed the whole room, and gave a warm smile to the kids, which seemed to ease their nerves, albeit slightly. "I have something to give to all of you." Crawley opened his briefcase and pulled out a large stack of papers. "I'll need you all to sign it, officers, students, teacher, _everyone_. Kids, when you go home today, have your parents sign one as well." He passed out a few copies to everyone in the room.

"The Official Secrets Act?" One kid questioned. "Why?"

"Some of the incidents that you have witnessed today are sensitive to national security, and must not be discussed with other parties." Crawley switched back into agent mode as he explained the legal matters. "You may discuss it solely with others who have signed the OSA, namely, everyone in this room, and your parents. This discussion may not involve speculation about the reasons behind what happened today. We will be providing the school counselor with a copy if you wish to attend therapy. If you do not abide by these regulations, then you will be subject to criminal investigation and prosecution."

"Is this about Alex?" A tall kid with brown curly hair questioned. "You seem to know him."

Crawley paused for a moment, and then decided he would be honest. He wouldn't be providing any information that this kid hadn't clearly deduced, and he could turn it into something that would help the kids breathe easier. Besides, they were all about to sign the OSA. "I do know him, yes. I am going to do everything in my power to get him and your classmates back home safely, I promise. All of you can help me do that if you sign those forms." Crawley passed out black pens to everyone. They all started to tentatively read the contract.

* * *

When Alex woke, he was met with damp walls and an aching pain.

His head ached, his side ached. Everything ached.

He opened his eyes with a groan. The first thing he saw was his best mate Tom staring right at him, inches from his face. "Alex!" he shouted, alerting everyone else of his presence.

"Ah!" Alex jumped. "Jesus Christ Tom, don't do that." Alex shifted his eyes to the right and saw five of his classmates sitting there, looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and anger. He switched back to Tom.

"You were out for so long. I didn't know what they had given you, or what it was doing to you, or if you'd ever..."

"I'm okay man." Alex reassured as he tried to sit up. He winced at the increased thumping of his temples. "It was probably just a basic sedative. I feel fine."

"Well, you don't look fine." Tom scrunched up his nose, and his voice fell to a whisper. "Jesus, is it like this every time? I mean, I knew that it was bad, and what you told me about sounded awful, but I never could have imagined-"

"Tom," Alex warned. He was straying into a topic he wished to stay away from, especially with his classmates well within earshot. Even though Tom was whispering, the room was small, and the other hostages had not much else to do but listen. His friend got the message and quickly changed the subject.

"Are you sure you're okay? I mean, that guy almost killed you! What he was saying about letting you slowly bleed to death-" Tom choked on his words. Alex couldn't help but shudder a bit as well, and he swore he saw the kids in the corner do the same. "I wanted to do something, but I just... didn't. I'm sorry mate. It was cowardly."

"Tom!" Alex couldn't believe what his friend was saying. "Don't be sorry, I'm really glad you didn't step in, honestly. It would have made things much worse, and there's nothing you could've done up against them. No offense or anything." Alex chuckled dryly, which increased the pain in his stomach. He quickly stopped and grabbed his side. Tom's concern grew.

"Okay Alex, you've obviously not fine. No one is fine after being hit with a gun, kicked in the stomach repeatedly, and having their face slammed into the wall. It left a dent, Alex, your _head_ left a _dent in the wall!"_

"Don't worry, I'm sure the wall will be fine. I'd bet you it's already on its way to recovery." Alex joked, trying to calm his friend. Alex was in pain. He knew it, Tom knew it, his classmates knew it (regardless of their level of pity), so what was the point of getting them all riled up? It was nothing life threatening. He could sit up, talk, and probably walk around if he tried hard enough. He didn't need special care. Tom disagreed.

"I'm serious. Alex, I know you've been through a lot, but you're not invincible. Let go of your pride so we can help you feel better."

"Tom, it's just some bruises here, some cuts there. If it was anything serious I couldn't be functioning as easily as I am now." Tom stepped back a bit, slightly appeased but still skeptical, and Alex finally took a good look around the room. "Hey, where is everyone else?" Alex wondered. The only other people in room were the five kids staring at him, then Amy and James in a corner together. They didn't look quite as guarded as the other five, but still kept their distance.

"Man, you won't believe this." Tom shook his head. He somehow seemed less affected by their situation than the other kids. Maybe he believed that Alex would be able to step in and save the day, like the hero he was supposed to be- but this wasn't a comic book, and Alex wasn't Superman. "They brought us out to the parking lot, and they had this huge helicopter, just sitting there with all the cars. Then a couple of cops, the ones the guys were talking about before they knocked you out, came around to our end and saw them forcing us on the helicopter.

"The seven of us were already on the chopper, so we just watched, but the men started shooting, and the cops shot back. After the first shot the guys let all the other kids and Humphrey go, then booked it into the chopper."

"So they all got away? Thank God." Alex was relieved. When he saw they weren't in the room, he'd thought they had been killed.

"Yeah, thank God for _them._ " Alex heard a kid snort. He turned to look at the speaker. It was Drew Sorby, the resident asshole. He wasn't strong enough to be a bully, but that didn't stop him from annoying the hell out of everyone who crossed his path. "They're probably at home, crying to their mommy, while we're stuck in this shit hole."

"What are they going to do with us? What do they want from us?" Robby, the kid who outed Alex earlier, spoke up and began to hyperventilate.

"You've been asking us that over and over. _We don't know_." Lila, a hardcore, athletic girl shot back. She was visibly stressed; she sat in the corner with balled up fists.

"But he does." Robby pointed right at Alex. Everyone else stared at him in anticipation.

"Hey, I don't know anything. I've never seen these guys in my life." Alex defended. It wasn't a lie, he didn't recognize the men, but he knew exactly why they wanted him.

"How would you know? They were wearing masks." Lila countered.

"And they seemed to know you." The popular girl, Alisa, made a strong claim.

"That I can't explain. I wish I had the answers for you, but honestly, I don't. We're all in the same boat here." Alex restated. Lila scoffed, then stood and walked over to where Alex was sitting. She peered down at him. All he could see was her accusing glare.

"I call BS." Her gaze narrowed. "Those men barged in here looking for you. They found you on some database, said they found two matches, said another thing about some 'family business,' and then you managed to take the guy's gun away from him, _while it was_ _pointed at your head._ How the hell did you do that, anyway?"

"Are we going to talk about the fact that he tried to murder the guy?" Drew spoke up. "You would have, right then and there."

"Hey, that was self-defense!" Tom shot back.

"How is putting a gun to someone's temple and making demands _self-defense_?" Lila added.

"He did the exact same thing to me!" Alex raised his voice. The argument granted him a small dose of adrenaline, so he stood. "What did you expect me to do?"

"Not that! That was the last thing we could have possibly expected! What fifteen year old knows how to disarm someone like that?" Alisa joined the conversation again.

"As if we didn't have enough proof before, this seals the deal." Lila said, attempting to command authority into her voice. "You're in a gang."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Oh, plea-" Alex was cut off before he uttered a sentence.

"No. Let me finish." Lila summoned more authority; her audience of hostages responded accordingly, all but Alex and Tom.

"Besides the fact that you disappear constantly for weeks on end, then return with bruises and cuts and _who knows_ what else, you know how to handle a gun, you are on some database that the people who kidnapped us have access to, and you seemed indifferent about killing that man. Also, about the whole "family business" thing, I bet your uncle was in a gang too, and that's why he died. There's no other option here."

As the weight of Lila's accusations set into the minds of the hostages, Alex realized that he had to solve this problem, and do it now. If he didn't act fast, everyone in the room but Tom would believe the rumors for good, and a lack of trust in Alex would mean they would never listen to anything he said to try and help the group, and they wouldn't follow any possible escape plan of his So, to unravel their idea of him thus far, he'd have to spin a crazy, but convincing tale. And he knew exactly what he had to say.

"But there is another option." If Alex had to tell a believable story, what could be more believable than the reason the men had kidnapped him? He believed he had guessed what the men knew, and what their motives were. If he was right, then he could redeem himself and gain his classmates' trust. But if he was wrong, things could get very bad very fast. He hoped his hunch was a good one.

First, he had to set the stage. "Tom, I'm going to tell them." He turned to his friend. Tom looked aghast.

"No, Alex! Think about what you're saying right now." Tom warned. Alex received the reaction he wanted. Tom looked worried and he had piqued his classmates' interests.

"I have to. Just, let me say this on my own, please? No interrupting." He requested from his friend.

"Yeah, but I really don't know about this Alex." Tom agreed, but he was still wary. Alex knew in due time he would realize his plan.

"It's my only choice at this point. I'd rather they knew the truth than go on believing I'm in a gang." Alex took a breath. "My uncle, I always thought he was a banker. He traveled a lot, and I didn't see him much. Once he died, I learned the truth. He wasn't a banker. He was a spy for MI6." Alex began spinning the tale.

"Hah!" Drew spat. "You wish." He didn't buy it, and it seemed the rest of the hostages shared the opinion.

"I'm not kidding. Let me finish." Alex glared him into silence. "When he died, I was told it was because of a car crash. But, when I went to check out the car, there were bullet holes in the windshield."

"Oh, and they just let you look at this car?" Lila sneered.

"Of course not, that took a bit of doing. I almost got killed because of it... But that's another story. I saw the bullet holes, I knew something was up, but before I could go any further with it, MI6 contacted me. They noticed my snooping and wanted to end it before I told anyone. They explained everything to me. They told me my uncle worked for them and had made quite a few enemies, and one of them had got to him. The problem was that the rest of his enemies still wanted revenge, but since my uncle was dead, they switched their focus to me." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Tom scrunch his face in confusion. He hoped his friend would catch on to his lie and go along with it before it was too late.

"The agency said they had people secretly protecting me before, but now that I knew, they dropped the pretenses, and from that point on, I had a couple of bodyguards on me whenever I was home. It was really annoying, actually. Tom, remember that one time when you didn't have any ID, so my bodyguard pinned you to the ground until you could prove you weren't some "enemy agent?"" Alex asked Tom. It was risky to get him involved in his lie, but if Tom rolled with it, the story would be that much more believable.

"Remind me never to come to your house uninvited ever again." He chuckled nervously. Alex was proud of Tom. He was no spy, but his lie was plenty believable.

"You never did after that did you?" Alex topped off the tale. The small back-and-forth seemed to do the trick, and his classmates now warmed up to the story. He continued. "Anyway, a lot of the organizations my uncle screwed over got really close to killing me. Like, held-at-gunpoint close. The agency started sending me to safe houses for weeks at a time whenever there was a bigger threat. So yeah, I was never sick. You guys got that much right.

"At these safe houses, they would teach me things that would help if there was ever a close call- field medical, shooting, and gun maneuvers. That's how I knew how to take the gun from that man. I've also been taking karate for years, which helps."

"So, the "family business" thing that the man was talking about, he meant MI6?" James asked, talking for the first time since Alex woke up. "The gunman said there were two results. One was your uncle, but what was the other?"

"My dad. He worked for them too. That's how he and my mom died- some terrorist group blew up the plane they were in." Alex's jaw stiffened.

"My God Alex." Amy whispered. "Well, it does explain everything but... My God."

"Tell me about it." Alex rubbed his face. "I wish you all hadn't been dragged into this. That's never happened before- it's always just been me."

"So this has happened to you before. This isn't the first time you've been kidnapped." Alisa challenged him to say otherwise. God, she was too perceptive for her own good.

Alex paused and met her eyes. "Yeah, it's happened before. But I've always made it out, and that's not going to change." Alex reassured the class. "Now, how long would you say the helicopter ride was?" Alex changed the subject suddenly, both to get the attention off of his life story (however false it was) and to try and get some information on where they were being held.

"Really long," Tom said, "I can't really put a number on it, what do you guys think?" Tom invited the others to join the conversation. Although they were still shaken by Alex's reveal, the request gave them something to focus on.

"I wasn't counting, but it felt like over 12 hours." Lila added. The rest of the class hummed in agreement.

Alex sighed heavily. "So we're really far away. Probably in the Americas, or East Asia, or something. Fantastic."

"We're that far? How will anyone be able to come save us?" Robby started hyperventilating again.

"It's ok Robby," Alex started, unsure how to comfort the boy. Being captured, that he was used to. But he wasn't used to calming others down in the meantime. "MI6 is good at what they do. They'll find us in no time. Besides, they're holding you all for ransom, so they probably won't kill you." At the mention of killing, Robby's breathing sped up again. Alex shut his mouth. _Great._

"What about you, Alex? They're not holding you for ransom." Tom was worried for his friend, like always. Alex appreciated the gesture, but right now explaining every angle was more of a chore.

"If they wanted to kill me they would have done it already. I'll be fine; _we'll all be fine_." Alex answered his friend. It seemed to calm him down a bit.

"I wouldn't be too sure." An unfamiliar voice from across the room cut into the conversation. All heads turned to seek out the source.

A man clad in a Kevlar vest and a ski mask stood in the doorway. He toted a menacing automatic and practically held it on display at his side. "Looks like you've told them your little secret already. Most everyone didn't expect you on the first day, but I figured you would." He said smugly.

"Congratulations." Alex spat. The man ignored his comment.

"Come with me." He beckoned as he took a few steps closer. Alex didn't move.

"Who the hell are you?" Alex asked. He was neither Scottish nor American, so he wasn't one of the men who captured them.

"I said, come." He gripped Alex's elbow and pulled him towards the door. "The boss wants to talk with you. She may do a little more than talk, but we'll have to see..." He patted his gun. Tom looked to his friend, and Alex returned with a slight nod. _I'll be fine._ He was pulled into the hall and the door slammed behind him.

* * *

Now for my shoutouts that are loooong overdue, in no particular order:

To Cc Hell (a guest) for reviewing every chapter as they read. That's always my favorite; it was so fun to see them cheering as the story went on.

To Afroz for the touching mention that this story is one of the few AR ones they enjoy. That's so awesome!

To Vanadesse Sadroniel for saying what we are all thinking when we read a story like this. it's okay, you're not alone!

P.S. The Needless Lobsters: you wanted longer chapters, you got 'em! This is actually the longest chapter I've ever published on this website.

For all of you people who read through this (and hold a special place in my heart for that reason), Chapter 7 is written so it will be out next time I get an internet connection!

~Archer


	7. Bloody Mary

I'm back so soon! It's not because I'm writing faster or anything, I already had this written, so there's that (those of you who read the comments at the end already know that, to those who don't: you should! I put a lot of information about future chapters/publish dates there).

The Great Wifi Panic of 2016 is still underway, but I've gotten more tricks up my sleeve as of now, so it really shouldn't affect my ability to publish too much. But I could be speaking too soon...

I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!

 **Previously...**

 **"Come with me." He beckoned as he took a few steps closer. Alex didn't move.**

 **"Who the hell are you?" Alex asked. He was neither Scottish nor American, so he wasn't one of the men who captured them.**

 **"I said, come." He gripped Alex's elbow and pulled him towards the door. "The boss wants to talk with you. She may do a little more than talk, but we'll have to see..." He patted his gun. Tom looked to his friend, and Alex returned with a slight nod. _I'll be fine._ He was pulled into the hall and the door slammed behind him.**

* * *

Chapter 7- Bloody Mary

Alex looked over his shoulder at the room as he was pulled down the corridor. He saw the door was made of steel, and in front of it loomed a robust guard equipped with two guns on each hip, and possibly a few more holsters hidden under her clothing.

These guys meant business. Alex briefly wondered if they were Scorpia, but dismissed the idea. If they were, there would be no need to send in a team to figure out who their target was. Scorpia would know Alex's face from the start. Besides, he hadn't seen their logo anywhere.

They passed by countless near identical doors and went up tons of generic staircases that Alex thought they were going in circles. Eventually they approached an unsuspecting door. Its only mentionable feature was a three-part lock mechanism: two deadbolts and one key card.

The man with him flipped through a keychain until he found the right keys, unlocked the deadbolts, then took the key card from his inner jacket pocket and swiped it through the gap. Alex filed away the location of the keys and the card for later.

The door slid open to reveal a meeting room. It looked normal; much too normal for a building that housed kidnapped children. This was the only room Alex had seen of the facility other than the one where he was being held, so he had no idea what else the place had in store.

Taking up nearly all the space in the room was a large oval table surrounded by chairs. Every chair was empty but one on the end, farthest from the door. Alex narrowed in on the woman sitting there.

She was incredibly poised: back straight, hands folded over one another on the table. A perfectly constructed poker face coated her pale skin. She didn't bother to hide her face, and Alex was worried about why that may be. "Welcome, Alex. Please, sit down." She gestured to the array of empty seats. Alex didn't move a muscle.

"Now, now. Don't be that way." She slowly shook her head. She looked to the man who had escorted Alex, and he placed an iron grip on his shoulder. Alex refused to wince at the tight hold. He guided the boy to a seat near the woman and sat him down.

"Release him." The woman ordered. The man let go, and Alex released a small breath he hoped neither of them knew he was holding.

"You are most likely wondering why we've brought you here." The woman inferred.

"I'd say "brought" is putting it too lightly." Alex quipped, but with enough politeness that the woman let it slide.

"Matter of opinion." She waved her hand. "We are a contract organization that specializes in capture for the various purposes of others. Clients pay us to take their target, hold them here, and pass on the captive when they request them. You were captured for reasons you seem to be very aware of." She referenced Alex's conversation with his classmates. Alex gleaned that not only did she have the ability to listen in on this conversation, with cameras, bugs, or word of mouth from the guard outside, but also that his fib was spot on. He had guessed what the organization knew about him, exploited that, and boy, did it pay off.

"So, who's the organization that hired you?" Alex prodded.

"Don't forget you place, young man." The woman stood. He voice turned cold. "In this place, you are property. We don't hand out information to property."

"Can you at least give me something to call you? I don't even know your name." Alex smiled, unfazed by her warning.

"Call me Queen Mary." She shot back.

"Ah, like Bloody Mary? Are you going to chop off my head?" Alex teased her. He knew that speaking out of turn was going to bite him in the ass, but people made mistakes when they were angry, and Alex could use every mistake he could squeeze out of her.

"I might, if this behavior continues." She replied in an utterly calm tone. "Let's get back to the whole reason I sent for you."

"Whatever you say, Bloody Mary." Alex faked a dramatic bow and smirked.

"We have your classmates here with the aim of obtaining a ransom from their families. Tell them when you return that as long as they don't step out of line, they won't be harmed." Bloody Mary got back to business.

"What about me? Does that mean _I'm_ allowed to step out of line?" Alex teased.

"Considering our client didn't specify the state of health they wanted you in, I'd say no."

"Noted." Alex tensed and hoped the woman didn't notice.

"The report I received from the unit that captured you said you were particularly unruly." She got back on track with the meeting. "One of the men took a particular distaste to you after you tried to shoot him in the head."

"Oh, that." Alex mocked sheepishness.

"So we've decided to give him free reign of your treatment." She finished. Her words hit Alex like a ton of bricks.

"Wait, what?" Alex threw his casual demeanor out the window. There were more important things to worry about than causing slip-ups now. The woman had all but signed his life away to a man that nearly beat him to death. "You can't do that. You need me alive, remember?"

"You're testing my patience. The client didn't specify the state of health they wanted you in, as I have already mentioned."

"Well, ask them!" Alex was frantic. "What if they need me to do something, and because of your decision I can't? They won't pay you!"

"Noted." The Queen mimicked his earlier phrase.

"I'm being serious! This is not a smart decision for your company. Don't let him hurt me, or you won't get your money." Alex bargained. He doubted Scorpia would need him in good shape, but he hoped he could buy himself at least a day or two.

"Like I said before," She stood and peered over him, her eyes drilling holes into his own, "do not forget your place." She signaled to the guard to retrieve him, and he walked toward the two at the table.

The guard escorted him back to his cell. After they wound through the identical hallways, he reached the door, flung it open, and shoved Alex inside. A few kids stood in anticipation. The spy quickly turned around and grabbed the door before it fully shut. The guard pulled a gun and pointed it at him.

"Hey, hey!" He raised his hands, but kept his foot in the door. "You have to make sure she talks to the client okay?"

"I don't take orders from you, kid." The guard spat. Alex nudged the door further open with his foot and took a step forward.

"Seriously man, it's a win-win situation if she'd just-"

"You take one more step and I'll shoot you." The guard pulled back the hammer.

Alex paused and narrowed his eyebrows. "You're not going to shoot me."

"Surprise." The guard sent a bullet right for Alex's heart. Alex stumbled back and doubled over, clutching his chest.

"AHHH, YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Alex screamed as he hit the ground. The guard chuckled in response. Alex wondered how he was still alive.

"Alex!" Tom exclaimed and ran towards his friend. The rest of the kids joined him. "Hey, give him some room!" Tom ushered them back. They barely moved away, instead forming a slightly wider circle around the two.

"Don't be such a crybaby. It's just a beanbag round." The guard chuckled and left the room. Tom rushed up in front of him and looked at him with horror.

"Well, that explains why I'm not dead." He plopped down on the cement, breathing heavily. Sharp pain surrounded the area where he was hit, but he didn't feel any blood under his shirt.

"Alex, what's a beanbag round? What does that mean?" Tom asked him. To his friend's knowledge, Alex could still be in mortal danger.

"It's a type of bullet that's softer, nonlethal." Alex pressed one hand on his throbbing chest. "That doesn't mean it won't hurt like hell, though."

"Let me look at it." Tom beckoned him forward. Alex reluctantly went towards him. If letting him look at a little bruise on his chest would satisfy Tom, he'd let him do it.

"You guys can go back to whatever you were doing before, I'm all good." He waved off the other kids. He didn't need an audience. They reluctantly shuffled back to the walls and sat, but still watched him from afar. Alex tried to ignore their stares.

"It's not like they have anything better to do Al." Tom muttered.

"I just don't want them all in my face." Alex shrugged. "You know, Tom, you can't do anything for me. Rubber bullets rarely even break the skin. Besides, you're not a doctor."

"My mom went to medical school, I know more than you think. Now take your shirt off." Tom ordered.

"That was before you were even born..." Alex grumbled as he loosened his tie. He found it strangely comical that they were all still wearing their school uniforms in a place like this. He set the tie aside and unbuttoned his shirt.

"Alex! What the hell?" Tom hissed while he looked at his chest. Although he was seemingly trying to be quiet, he was still attracting attention from the other hostages. "You call this fine?" Alex looked down at his torso. It was marked with large, deep purple bruises that covered three-quarters of his skin. A large red and purple welt was forming where he was hit by the rubber bullet, right below the right side of his chest. The rest of his stomach was littered with scars from previous missions: knife wounds, burns, scratches, and countless other injuries. And, most prominent, the white circular scar next to his heart.

"Well, what did you expect? I was kicked in the stomach about ten times yesterday, and I just got shot." Alex crossed the two sides of his shirt back over his torso.

"Stop that, this is serious." Tom swatted his hands away so he could get another look. "What about all these other scars? You look like a prisoner of war or something."

"If you're just going to stare at me like some freak of nature, then we're done, thanks." Alex fiddled with the buttons.

"No! Alex, this is really bad. You could have some serious internal bleeding." Tom urged.

"What's wrong?" Amy stood and walked over to the two. Alex tried to cover up his chest again but it was too late; she had already seen the worst of it. "Alex, what happened to you?" She exclaimed. The rest of the kids swarmed over to the three to get a look at the spy. Alex quickly buttoned up his shirt.

"Okay, enough." He managed to get the rest of the buttons done before anyone else saw, and sat up against the wall, still clutching his chest. Drew whispered something to Amy, but she shook him off and walked over to where Alex sat. She slid down the wall to meet him, and clutched her knees to her chest.

"He wanted to know what we were freaking out about." She gestured to Drew.

"Well, thanks for not telling him. It means a lot." Alex sent her a small smile.

"Alex, you don't have to say yes to this, but do you want to talk about anything? I can only imagine all the terrible things you've been through, and it can't be easy to keep that all a secret."

"Thanks, but I'm not the 'talk about my feelings' type." Alex responded.

"Okay, but I really think it would help. I'm here for you if you change your mind, alright?" Amy asked.

"You'd really be willing to talk with me?" Alex let some of his true feelings show. He spoke in a somber, defeated tone. "Even though it's all my fault that you and everyone else here has been captured?"

Amy's expression shifted into one of seriousness. "Don't put this on yourself, Alex. You're not the reason we're kidnapped, they are." She gestured to the door, where an armed guard stood on the other side. "I don't want you to think for a second that this is your fault. Promise me you won't think that."

Amy left Alex speechless. "I- thank you Amy." He gave her a small smile. That's exactly what I needed to hear right now."

"I didn't hear any promising."

"I promise." Alex nodded once, and Amy hugged him. He squeezed back, but flinched when she pressed against his bruises.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" Amy jumped back when she realized she hurt him.

"Hey, it's fine." Alex brushed it off. They both sat in silence for a moment.

"What was the thing you were talking about with the guard when you first came back in?" Amy said to break the silence. "You seemed worried."

"Oh, that was nothing." He waved it off, "At least I hope it'll be nothing." He added under his breath. Amy heard, but before she could talk with him about it any further, he shifted focus. "Hey, have you guys gotten any food or water since you got here? Hasn't it been almost a day since we were captured?"

"Yeah, that's right, and no, nothing." Amy shook her head.

"Jesus." Alex stood up and walked to the door. Now that he was aware of it, he could see signs of dehydration in the kids: they all couldn't stop yawning, and a few clutched their heads or rubbed their temples. He noticed the same symptoms in himself, plus some dry skin and dizziness. He reached the door and banged on it twice.

"Hey! We haven't gotten food or water since we got here." He said through the small window.

"That's nice." The guard dismissed him.

"It takes three days for humans to die from dehydration. It takes a day for adverse effects to occur." Alex recited from an old memory, a lesson from Ian. The first part he knew to be true. The second may or may not have been an elaboration. "So, if you don't give us water right now, either we'll die and you won't get paid, or we'll get seriously sick and you'll have to spend a lot of time and money fixing us up. It's either lose money or gain money, your choice."

"Fine, you little shit." The guard pulled out a radio and said a few words. Satisfied, Alex walked back over to his spot on the wall. A half an hour later, a panel in the door slid open and two water bottles were thrown into the cell.

"How generous." Alex muttered under his breath. He walked over to pick the two bottles up.

"We better ration it." Alisa stood up to join Alex. "Who knows how it long it will be until we get more."

"True." Alex nodded at her. All he wanted was to chug both the bottles instantly, but his common sense, and Alisa, told him otherwise.

"There's eight of us, so that means we each get a fourth of a bottle. It would probably be smartest to drink about half of our ration now, and take the other half in sips until we run out." She proposed.

"Uh, sure, sounds good." Alex nodded. It seemed logical enough. "How about we split ourselves into two groups of four, each with one bottle, then we pass it around and each take small sips until the bottles are halfway empty?"

"Yeah, good idea Al." Tom encouraged. Alex handed one bottle to Alisa and the students all shuffled into groups: Tom, Alex, James and Amy in one, and Drew, Robby, Lila and Alisa in the other. After thirty seconds or so of passing the bottle and taking drinks, Alex saw some people from the other group pushing each other around out of the corner of his eye. He handed the bottle to Tom and turned. Drew and Lila were a moment away from a full on fistfight. Drew held the bottle and was taking a huge gulp, while Lila tried everything she could to get it away from him. A few drops of precious water splashed over with every shove.

"Hey, HEY!" Alex walked over, pushed Lila away, and snatched the bottle from Drew's hand before either of them could stop him. Lila stumbled back a few feet, and Drew, who Alex barely nudged while getting the bottle, forced himself to fly backwards on to the floor.

"WHY'D YOU SHOVE ME?" Drew yelled, using his fake reaction to Alex's nudge to try and start a fight. Alex wasn't quite sure why he faked the fall, but he assumed it was to seem like a victim of some sort so he could get a bigger ration. "You claim you're not a gangster but you're sure acting like one, shoving us all around to get the bottle for yourself." He stood. "Why are we giving this common criminal some of our water when he treats us like shit?"

"Is anyone actually falling for this?" Alex almost laughed. "He just wants more water for himself and he's using me as a scapegoat. You saw him chugging that thing before I even got over here." The rest of his classmates seemed to be on Alex's side, unsurprisingly. If there was anyone at Brookland that the kids resented more than Alex, it was Drew. Even Robby, who had had his share of torment from the kid.

"Here," Alex handed the bottle back to Alisa, "You guys can each probably have a sip or two more until you're halfway." He glanced at Drew. "He's had plenty."

"Hey, who died and made you-" Drew argued, but Alex spun to face him and stopped him in his tracks.

"Sit down and shut your goddamn mouth." Alex said slowly as he channeled all the lethality he had into his voice. His eyes bore down into Drew's until the spy forced him to look away. He was tired of his games, and Alex hoped he could scare his classmate into behaving better. Drew took an involuntary step back, then slowly sat, swallowing his pride. Alex returned to his group and they finished the first half of the water bottle in silence.

* * *

There you have it! Now for shout outs:

To RulerOfTheHellhounds for a request for faster updates, which I did in fact listen to. You have them to thank for this chapter coming out just a week after the previous!

To Wolf77 because wow, they read my ramblings in the beginning! I didn't know if anyone did or not :)

Thanks to everyone else for their little notes of encouragement, they mean so much to me!

Some news about Crashing Down, my other fic (if you aren't reading it, please do! If you like this one you'll certainly like it), it hasn't been updated in a very long time, but the next chapter is pretty far along so that should be up pretty soon! The next chapter of both this fic and crashing down are going to be very action packed, so get excited!

~Archer


	8. Real Pain

Is it even possible? A new chapter of the pain game? Is this real life? Or just a fantasy? Jokes aside, I suck at updating, which you all know by now, so I'm not going to waste my time rambling about the fact.

Brace yourselves everyone, because this chapter is when it starts to get hairy. If you want to keep reading for the plot but you aren't a fan of extreme violence, skip this chapter, scroll to the bottom and I'll provide a little summary of everything important. I'm sure most of you are cool with it because I already mentioned how intense this story would be, but just in case, I got you covered.

 **A little refresher in case you don't remember what happened (from when I last updated in JULY)...**

 **"Yeah, good idea Al." Tom encouraged. Alex handed one bottle to Alisa and the students all shuffled into groups: Tom, Alex, James and Amy in one, and Drew, Robby, Lila and Alisa in the other. After thirty seconds or so of passing the bottle and taking drinks, Alex saw some people from the other group pushing each other around out of the corner of his eye. He handed the bottle to Tom and turned. Drew and Lila were a moment away from a full on fistfight. Drew held the bottle and was taking a huge gulp, while Lila tried everything she could to get it away from him. A few drops of precious water splashed over with every shove.**

 **"Hey, HEY!" Alex walked over, pushed Lila away, and snatched the bottle from Drew's hand before either of them could stop him. Lila stumbled back a few feet, and Drew, who Alex barely nudged while getting the bottle, forced himself to fly backwards on to the floor.**

 **"WHY'D YOU SHOVE ME?" Drew yelled, using his fake reaction to Alex's nudge to try and start a fight. Alex wasn't quite sure why he faked the fall, but he assumed it was to seem like a victim of some sort so he could get a bigger ration. "You claim you're not a gangster but you're sure acting like one, shoving us all around to get the bottle for yourself." He stood. "Why are we giving this common criminal some of our water when he treats us like shit?"**

 **"Is anyone actually falling for this?" Alex almost laughed. "He just wants more water for himself and he's using me as a scapegoat. You saw him chugging that thing before I even got over here." The rest of his classmates seemed to be on Alex's side, unsurprisingly. If there was anyone at Brookland that the kids resented more than Alex, it was Drew. Even Robby, who had had his share of torment from the kid.**

 **"Here," Alex handed the bottle back to Alisa, "You guys can each probably have a sip or two more until you're halfway." He glanced at Drew. "He's had plenty."**

 **"Hey, who died and made you-" Drew argued, but Alex spun to face him and stopped him in his tracks.**

 **"Sit down and shut your goddamn mouth." Alex said slowly as he channeled all the lethality he had into his voice. His eyes bore down into Drew's until the spy forced him to look away. He was tired of his games, and Alex hoped he could scare his classmate into behaving better. Drew took an involuntary step back, then slowly sat, swallowing his pride. Alex returned to his group and they finished the first half of the water bottle in silence.**

* * *

Chapter 8- Real Pain

"Everyone out!" A guard barked as he flung the cell door opened. His orders were unexpected and given without explanation, a theme that Alex assumed he'd have to get used to during their stay.

"What do you want?" Alex asked, hoping to at least get a sense of what was going to happen to them. With only the guards' angry order to judge, there wasn't much to go off of. They could be marching off to their own deaths, for all he knew.

"Ransom photos." The guard sneered. "Hurry up!" The kids, now knowing that their reason for leaving was nothing life-threatening, were willing to go, and began shuffling towards the exit. Alex was less than convinced by the man's explanation.

"Why do we have to leave for pictures? You can bring the camera in here." Alex argued.

"Remind yourself who you're talking to." The guard placed his hand on his holster as a clear warning. Alex caught the gesture and dropped the subject.

The kids trailed through the concrete corridors, flanked in the front and back by two guards. It wasn't long until they reached the room they were heading for. Once Alex saw the interior, he understood why they couldn't just snap a photo in their cell. The far wall was covered by a white sheet and bright, fluorescent lights shone from directly above it. It was a simple but effective setup- the lack of personality in the lighting and backdrop would provide nothing for investigators. It didn't reveal the type of facility where they were being held, the natural light exposure, whether it was under or over ground- nothing that could be useful. All it revealed was that these people knew exactly what they were doing.

They rushed Alex in front of the group and handed him a current newspaper. It wasn't written in English and Alex couldn't tell what language it was- it looked like spanish but it wasn't anything he could understand- Catalan, maybe? The date was in recognizable numbers, and Alex checked it- two days had passed since they were captured. He stood in front of the backdrop with the paper.

"Smile." The photographer sneered as he snapped a photo. A guard grabbed him and shoved him out of the room as quickly as possible. He glanced back one last time at the kids before the door slammed shut behind them. The man kept a firm grip on his shoulder as he brought him to the next room over.

The guard shoved him into a cold, metal chair in the center of the room and quickly strapped him in with rope that was tied to each armrest. The room was dim and bare, much like the Brookland kids' cell. He assumed it had been a cell before it was converted into whatever it was meant for now. What it was meant for… Alex wasn't keen on finding out.

Before Alex could make any guesses, a man entered the room. He was very tall and bulky. His skin was pale but his hair was dark and cut short like a soldier. He kept his head held high and his chest puffed, as if he thought he was important. He wore an army style uniform. Although Alex didn't know the face, he seemed familiar. The second he spoke, Alex knew why.

"Lyle." He nodded towards the guard, speaking in the thick Scottish accent that Alex had last heard in Mr. Humphrey's class. He had wished he wouldn't ever hear it again, but Alex had a brutal unlucky streak.

"Mike." Lyle responded. Mike… So that was his name.

"And Alex Rider; guest of honor." Mike turned his head to the boy strapped down in the metal chair. "I see you've set up for me." He nodded towards Lyle. Lyle nodded in return.

"You can leave now." Mike ordered.

"Boss told me to stay and observe." Lyle stood his ground.

"So, you're saying she doesn't trust me?" He took a menacing step forward. "She thinks I'll kill him or something?"

"I'm just following orders. Nothing personal."

"It'll get personal very quickly if you don't leave immediately." Mike snarled. "I'm not an idiot, I know what he's worth. He's not going to die," he glanced over his shoulder and smirked at Alex, "although he'll wish he would soon enough." Alex gulped. "You can stand outside the door if you wish." Lyle wised up and left the room, leaving Alex alone with the man who had nearly killed him just a day ago.

Mike wasted no time, sinking his fist into Alex's stomach instantly. He grunted and doubled over, straining against the ropes.

"The Queen asked Scorpia about your preferred condition." He accented the words with a sharp hook to the jaw. Alex bit his tongue and tasted blood. "They said I can do what I want, as long 'as there's no irreversible or long-term damage.'" He quoted. Another punch to the gut. "Broken bones and the like." He slowly dragged his bloodied fist on Alex's face, letting the blood trail in a diagonal line from his temple to his jawline. It was absolutely repulsive. "I can work with that."

Three more rapid-fire shots to the face left Alex's nose bleeding and dripping onto his lips. He spat the blood into the Scot's face. The man boiled with rage. "Oh, you think you're tough?" He sneered. Alex fought against the pain to keep a neutral expression. "Not for long, kid." Mike reached into his back pocket and produced a pair of brass knuckles. Alex let in a sharp breath. Mike missed nothing.

"Ah, not so tough after all, are we?" He loomed over the boy, slowly putting on the set. He went to town, beating him wherever he could. Alex rolled with the punches as best he could while strapped down. However, when Mike punched him in the chest, right over both his fresh rubber bullet wound and the old sniper scar, he couldn't handle it. The scream he had been holding in ripped out of his throat.

"There it is!" The man smiled. Alex noticed he had a few gold teeth. "Sensitive right there, are we?" He poked where he had just hit him, and Alex pushed his back as far against the chair as he could manage.

"Not as sensitive as your mum's-" Alex's retort was cut off by a swift uppercut.

"Now, now," The Scot clucked. "Don't bite the hand that, well, bites back harder." Mike pummeled the same spot on his chest over and over. Alex could hardly breathe. His vision blurred. All he could sense was pain. Nothing else.

"So, what is it about your chest that hurts so bad?" Mike asked, though he wasn't expecting an answer. He decided to find out for himself by grabbing Alex's shirt by the collar and ripping it down the center. The buttons popped off and flew every which way.

"Would you look at that." Mike examined his torso, seeing the layers of cuts and bruises due to his own handiwork. He fixed his attention on Alex's chest, spotting the large, out of place purple welt. "Ah-ha, Lyle got you with a rubber bullet, huh?" He chuckled, but stopped suddenly, as if he had made an unexpected realization. Alex knew exactly what it was that he had seen.

"Oh? Oh." He widened his eyes. "You were shot. In the heart. I'm surprised that you're alive."

"I got lucky, I guess" Alex shrugged. Although lucky wouldn't be the way he'd describe himself now. Mike quickly backhanded him.

"Did I say you could speak?" He snarled before getting back to business. "I'm assuming this was one of the other "assassination attempts" you were going on about in your cell." Alex nodded.

"And what's all this?" He gestured to the rest of his upper body.

Alex tilted his head the head to the side. "It's from you." Wasn't that obvious? Had the man forgotten that he'd been pummeling him for the last ten minutes?

"I wasn't talking about that; I'm not an idiot." Mike spat. Alex expected to be hit again, but the Scot was too interested in what he was seeing to punish him for his response. "I'm talking about the scars. How'd you get them?"

"Why do you care?" Alex coughed, still struggling to talk after the beating he took to his chest.

"The real question is," Mike grabbed his chin with one hand, squeezing it like a vice grip. "why are you arguing with the man who's been ordered to torture your sorry ass? He punctuated his sentence by slamming Alex's head into the back of chair with unmatchable force before letting go of his face. Alex blinked as the edges of his vision darkened.

"So, how'd you get them?" He repeated. "Have you been tortured before?" Although Alex didn't speak, Mike could read the answer in his eyes. "Well, what'd they do? What did they use?" He was fascinated. "Electrocution, whips, knives, spit it out!" He shook the chair, rattling Alex's bones.

"Waterboarding." He admitted, recalling the Bell Room in Cairo. He decided to leave out the crocodile incident in Kenya; he didn't want to give his new torturer any ideas.

"Ah, waterboarding. I've never been fond of it. After all, Psychological pain is not real pain. It's over too soon; it has no… lingering consequences." He slowed his last two words, letting each syllable roll over his tongue. "Real pain takes your blood, your breath, and your will to live. It kicks you to the street corner and leaves you there to die. Real pain... now that's what I've got in store for you, Alex Rider.

"It's seems you've had a taste of it before." He raised his eyebrows as he scanned his scar-littered torso. "Waterboarding doesn't give you scars like these." Alex expected him to demand further explanation, but other ideas came to mind. "Do your little school friends know about this?" Mike traced the cool metal of the brass knuckles down the center of his torso. Alex shuddered and shook his head. "Not even the bullet wound?" He ground his fist into the scar, back and forth. Alex gritted his teeth and let out a large puff of air. It was all he could do not to cry out.

"No? Well, I think it's time to show them. Secrets aren't very fun, are they?" Mike took Alex's shirt all the way off and threw it over his shoulder. It landed in a heap in the corner of the room. "You didn't need that old thing anyway. It's rather hot in the cell blocks. The higher ups didn't splurge on air conditioning, not for the prisoners."

Alex was on the verge of protest, but bit his lip before he said anything stupid. The little control he had in his situation had been tossed in the corner. He already had to tell the others that he was scheduled for a daily dose of torture, but now he had to explain the scars beneath the blood and bruises. He could picture the confrontation now: the kids all prodding him for an explanation, another hardly believable lie, the dredging up of old memories. It was the icing on the horrible, disgusting cake that the whole mess had been so far. And it was only day two.

"You know what would be fun?" Mike grinned. "A little fight. Mano a mano. None of this "strapped to a chair" business." Alex, who was still feeling the effects of his beat-down in full force and was certainly not up for it, didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

Mike untied the cords around the boy's wrists with confidence. In the state Alex was in, he didn't pose a threat at all. It would just be a game. A very painful, sadistic game.

"Come on now, get up. I'll even let you make the first move." Mike sunk into a fighting stance, his brass knuckles reflected in the dim light of the cell. Alex definitely wasn't dealing with a rookie, although it didn't matter who he was up against at this point- a toddler could have gotten the best of him.

Alex slowly rose from the chair, every muscle groaning in protest. He stood and wobbled unsteadily on his feet. Mike spread his arms wide, challenging him to take a swing. Alex lifted his right arm and pulled it back. Might as well get it over with.

He aimed for the man's face, using as much force as he could muster. As long as he had a chance to hurt him, he would take it, no matter how battered and dazed he was. Mike caught his fist and twisted it backwards, causing Alex to bend along with it. His raised arm left Alex's side exposed, allowing Mike to get a clean punch in right below his ribs, where he had kicked the boy in the classroom the day before. Alex folded at the waist and dropped to the floor, landing on the side that had just been struck before curling up. He coughed uncontrollably, gasping for air.

"Get up and fight me, you coward!" Mike yelled. Alex stayed still. "This'll be a lot worse for you if you don't do as I say." He growled. Alex scrambled to his feet, unwilling to see what the man meant by "a lot worse." The second Alex was on his feet, the Scot slapped both his ears as hard as he could, and sent a side kick to his stomach.

Alex dropped to his knees, clutching his head. His ears rang like a siren; he could hear nothing else. The Scot managed to worm his foot under Alex and kick him again in the abdomen, knocking him backward. He landed, sprawled on his back, nearly whacking his head on the cement floor. He saw Mike's mouth move, but he couldn't hear what he was saying. The ringing still hadn't stopped.

Mike picked him up by the neck, hoisting him into the air with one arm. Alex couldn't breathe. He grabbed the man's hand and tried to pry it off, but Mike put his other hand on his neck as well, Sandwiching Alex's hands in between the two.

"You're boring." Mike clucked. Alex could barely hear the sentiment; his hearing was slowly returning. His face turned an unnatural shade of red, which morphed into purple. Alex gave one last attempt at ripping Mike's hands off his neck before everything went dark.

* * *

Well that was dark. I wasn't exaggerating when I said it was gonna be extremely violent! Anyways, first shoutouts, then the chapter summary:

To _The Needless Lobsters_ for (as always) giving a wonderful descriptive review. You'll be seeing more conflict between the kids in the next chapter for sure :)

To _Niamh x_ for the longest review of this chapter. I already replied to you directly but for everyone else who might've been wondering, Yassen will not be in this story, but K-Unit will!

Now for the chapter summary:

The kids got taken to a room to take ransom photos. The setup was professional and they held up newspapers to the dates the pictures were taken on. Then, Alex got whisked away to a room, strapped down to a chair, and tortured by the scottish kidnapper who he tried to kill earlier in his classroom (whose name is Mike). It wasn't very fun.

If that summary was helpful for you, let me know in a review so I'll know if I actually need to write them or not. If no one need sit then I won't bother. So I need feedback!

As always, I would highly appreciate a review. I've got a mouthful about why they're so important to me, but in short, they're the reason I keep writing. I would abandon this website if no one wrote any. Thanks to everyone who read the chapter, especially those who cared enough to read all the way through to the bitter end!


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